


Ruins of the Past

by GothicWolf03



Series: Morrigan's Descendants [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Original Work
Genre: Ancient Precursor Civilization, Gen, Humans v. Precursor, Pieces of Eden, Toba Catastrophe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicWolf03/pseuds/GothicWolf03
Summary: Part 1 of the series Morrigan’s DescendantsWar had been the beginning of our suffering.Fire consumed everything in its path, the ground quaking in fury until all that remained was barren wasteland. What lay behind the aftermath of the flare were pieces of rubble that held the stories of our once great, ancient civilization.An even greater threat, one as powerful and dangerous as the first catastrophe, will return to finish what it had started. No one can predict what and when it will happen; for now the only solution is to bide our time until it returned in a cruel awakening—if we were still alive by then. I will not wait any longer.There is still a way to fix the damage that we, the Isu and humans, have started. If I cannot find a way to contain the flare, then I could focus my energies on locating the Pieces of Eden scattered throughout the world. No one shall have the means to destroy this land further. No more will we remain trapped in ruins.~Morrigan





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus. I just recently started university, and my classes didn't leave me time to write my stories. Literally had them from early morning to late afternoons everyday ;_;
> 
> But I did have time to plan out the next several stories for the series, and any other side stories (so pumped!). Can't wait to share them with you guys!
> 
> This is the first installment. Basically, a short story about Precursor civilization and Morrigan's lineage prior to Charlotte's life. The next part, which is Civil War (originally titled Transcendence) will be posted soon once I go back and make revisions.
> 
> Also, my laptop broke so I currently have to work on my phone. Please let me know of any errors. Any comments or feedback are always appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy, and happy summer! :)

A blaring light flickered from within the dimly lit laboratory. Flecks of snow slipped through the open shutters, combining with the chemical vapors from the boiling test tubes to increase the humidity in the room. Papers laid sprawled in every direction, some stained in dark brown spots which rimmed the edges. On top of the mess, with his face intently peering into a microscope, sat a male scientist observing the current specimen behind the glass slide.

One month was all they gave him. A month to unravel the DNA contained within the blood and uncover memories of an ancestor belonging to some modern-day assassin. Dr. Isaac prided himself on being one of very few geneticists to process the DNA codons in minimal timing, but the most recent one proved time-consuming.

Every time he felt a shred of success when he unraveled a strand it soon deflated. The codes would simply rewind itself as if they were never torn apart in the first place. Granted, he never physically witnessed the process since it was too quick to notice—the time it took for him to look away and then back was when he would find them reconnected. It couldn't be a mere coincidence.

 _Not like they gave me much information,_ he mused, zooming in with higher magnification. _Give a man the essential parts. Leave behind the manual._

When the Templars visited him at an inopportune time—in the middle of a lecture to be exact—they simply ordered him to collect the memories. No name was given. No further details as to how they retrieved the samples. Only explained that they needed the information contained within the DNA.

It took a while for him to accept their evasive behavior despite the protocol that called for him being informed of every sample that shipped to his lab. His experiments wouldn't be the same without some identification, whether it be a name or a physical description of the victim. Narrowing down the identity of the victim can help trace their history back to immediate family members, most of which held some important item of value that went back several generations. If not, then things would just feel _incomplete_.

He didn't sit well with missing variables.

Human DNA didn't just magically fix itself back together when removed outside the human body. Neither did those belonging to hybrids. Come to think of it, like the other hybrid samples, this one had numerous gold codes in a single strand, hinting to the evolution of the Precursor’s triple helix into a human’s double helix. It wasn't unusual to find a few codes here or there dating back to the ancient civilization, but this strand contained over hundreds of them. Just what kind of person could possess such a large amount? Who was their ancestor?

A lone sweat slid down his forehead, carefully transferring the subject onto the gel medium. This should keep the DNA stabilized long enough for the strands to separate across the opposite pole regions. Data would then be collected for the laptop to then convert into files based on chronology. He was determined to unravel the properties of the victim’s codes before his time was up.

“Dr. Isaac.”

The scientist gave a startled jump, spilling dark coffee all over his paperwork. Thankfully, none of it leaked onto the device, though looking at the soppy papers made his heart clench painfully. There’s the next forty-eight hours of his research he wasn’t getting back.

He turned towards the pixelated face of a Templar associate that filled almost the entire screen. “A simple visit will do!”

“Is it ready yet?”

“Otso Berg gave me a month,” he defended, a bit perturbed by the goon’s rude manner. “Is there a problem? Has something happened?”

“No.”

He flushed in anger. “Then why disturb me in the middle of my work? If I cannot determine the history of this DNA while being rushed to finish—”

“That will be all, Marcus.” A feminine voice entered the conversation, the screen replaced with a serene face belonging to the head of the company. “I apologize if my man was giving you a hard time, Elias.”

“Business as usual,” the old man sarcastically replied. “How can I help you, Vivian?”

“Just checking on progress. How far into the sequences are you?”

“Haven't retrieved them yet.” He twisted the knob to increase the voltage. “This isn't like the others. Something is preventing me from seeing. From knowing.”

The slight pause on the other end vaguely captured his interest. Despite the close relationship he had with the female CEO of Abstergo Industries, she wasn't one to pay a social call to her clients. Usually her men did all her dirty work—as shown before at the start of the video call. Something wasn't right.

Her calculating eyes coolly assessed him. “What do you know of the breach?”

Dr. Isaac ran a hand through his greasy, unkempt hair. “Not much. Rumors I picked up here and there. Some confidential files stolen. A death in the building. One of the assassins, I presume?”

The microphone muffled from Vivian’s heavy sigh. “Yes, it was rather messy. Rest assured we will handle the matter in due time.”

“Just what is going on?” He asked, tired of beating around the bush. “I've worked with you for over thirty years, and not once have you ever withheld information from me.”

“Doubting me, Elias?” Her painted lips quirked in afterthought. “Have I ever misplaced your trust in me?”

“Not recently.” Dr. Isaac briefly let the electrical device unattended so he could give her his undivided attention. “But I don't appreciate being left in the dark. For instance, why is everything hushed from the public? What files were stolen that day of the breach? Whose sample did you give me?”

“The less you know, the better. We will monitor your progress closely. Good day.”

The screen instantly went black.

His mind couldn't wrap around the awkward conversation. At least one thing had been confirmed from the chat: there had been a disturbance at the company that Abstergo wants to keep under surveillance. Whoever made the bold move in infiltrating Abstergo and then starting the chain of events must have been someone looking for answers. The fact that the company refused filling him with details on the incident left a plague of doubts.

And if his suspicions were correct, something told him everything connected back to the blood sample.

Over two hours passed and still no progress was made. Unfortunately, when he ended his call with Vivian the DNA molecule reshaped back to its original form. He knew he was dealing with something beyond common science, excited yet anxious at the prospect of dealing with the supernatural. Besides being a science fanatic, he was also extremely fascinated by myths and legends. Stories of the unknown had always held this dark attraction for him to unravel their mysteries. It would also be worthwhile if the stories somehow linked back to the Isu civilization, which most of the time they did.

“What are you hiding?” Dr. Isaac again placed the molecule onto the gel medium for the third time since this morning. He couldn't afford any more distractions. The camera on his laptop was even directed towards him and his work. If he wasn't able to spot the change the DNA did to itself, maybe technology could. It would then make it easier to explain his findings the next time Abstergo decided to pay a surprise visit over video chat.

“Data Entry #10. Observing DNA sample of unknown victim 49.” The red light of the device blinked several times before focusing in detail on the experiment. “Dr. Isaac here. A week has passed and no progress has been made on the sequences. However, majority of the codes pinpoint back to Precursor origin—the largest amount to date. Reasons for it are still open for speculation. Further analysis will be conducted. Readying electrophoresis, now.”

The familiar buzz of electricity coming to life had the scientist at the edge of his seat. A frown crossed his face once he realized that the molecules vibrated over the gel, but hadn't budge apart for the whole twenty minutes. The settings weren’t tampered from the previous trial, so this should have worked.

He turned the knob of the power source up a notch until the flag reached the middle unit. Anything beyond that would make it unsafe to reach inside, or even melt the gel and harm the DNA fragments. Any chances of conducting more trials were out of the question since the blood they gave him was insufficient in quantity.

“Subject is uncooperating. Increasing voltage.”

Dr. Isaac first felt the rattling sensation underneath his feet before noticing the table vibrating in place. His gut instinct told him to lower the settings, but the intellectual mind was too absorbed in waiting it out till the very end. Just a little higher.

A crazed smile stretched across his face as the molecules were forced to separate on opposite ends without any means to reconnect. Colorful lines marked across the white page of the applicator as it processed the sample. So focused on the experiment that the scientist never once paid attention to the flickering lights overhead nor the sparks igniting out of the power source connecting to the tray. All that remained was to transfer the data.

Out of nowhere, a burst of energy detonated in the scientist’s face, shoving him and all of his paper contents across the room. The row of lights short-circuited, pieces of glass scattering all over the floor. Everything inside and outside the lab was blanketed in total darkness. Along with the outage came a sudden chill enveloping the air, something not quite correlating with the weather.

He groaned from the excruciating pain, wobbling back onto his feet. Holding a hand to his bruised forehead, the old doctor stared wide-eyed at the sphere of energy glowing midair. The camera of the laptop hadn’t bothered turning back on.

“No, no!” He limped all the way to the workbench, tapping vigorously on the power button of the device. Dead.

A hissing sound directed his attention towards the ball of energy suspended over the tray. Like a moth to a flame he moved towards the light, making sure to keep some distance between them in case it decided to swing him against the wall a second time. His blood ran cold from being forced to watch all the DNA fragments disintegrate into the mass before it gravitated towards the laptop. Code numbers were regurgitated onto the screen and then converted into files. Files for the Animus.

“Astounding,” he breathed out, his eyes trailing after the entity that shot out of the computer. He stepped back in alarm, crawling over the glass shards just to flee away from the energy mass inching closer to him. “Wait, wait! Don't hurt me!”

Too many voices invaded his thoughts. Instincts told him to cover his ears, but the agonizing screams were now forever committed to memory. Next moment, something inside him jerked against his body once the mass of energy flew past him before dying out. His eyes rolled towards the back of his head, becoming deaf to the emergency alarm alerting everyone to evacuate the building before collapsing onto the floor.


	2. Chapter 1

A hooded figure traversed across the land with a staff in hand. Long cords dangled from beneath the shadow of the hood. Bare feet peeked out from under the cloak, specks of dirt coating the humanoid surface. The sun blazed overhead, and the figure was glad to be away from the blinding light when it could stay in the shadows.

Perched on the wanderer’s shoulder was a black raven, its head tilting around the calm environment before looking towards its companion. It crooned against the gentle touch stroking against its dark plumage, understanding flitting across its eyes. With wings expanded, the creature launched into the air, soaring ahead of the group to survey beyond the hills for its brother.

The stranger abruptly stopped, causing the wolves beside him to keel in worry. Through the raven’s perspective, he could make out more land for several miles until the image of a colossal tree spiked his desire. _It's here_.

The world tree exists, then. Legend has it that beneath the tree is the ancient water springs that housed all universal knowledge. One drink from the pond would grant the owner cosmic knowledge beyond existence through vast numbers and equations. For a Precursor such as himself, he intended to divulge in that knowledge throughout his extended life. He gestured for his beasts to follow, digging the staff into the ground as he marched onward.

It was as the book described it: enormous, pure, and bright. Golden leaves whisked into the air, enveloping its surroundings with an ethereal light. Beyond the light were two dark shadows that lounged on the branches, their beaks pointed downward onto their approaching master.

Moisture coated the air he breathed and the earth he walked upon. Lifting his hood, the ancient Precursor better examined his surroundings where no one but him existed. He dug for the curved horn attached to his pelt, advancing towards the pooling water underneath the roots. Before he could step within the pool, however, a shadowy figure materialized in front of him.

Immediately, the sword was withdrawn in the Precursor’s hand while his beasts snarled viciously at the intruder. He didn't expect to find anyone else around the wellspring; the thought of competition over the waters left a bitter taste in his mouth. But this mysterious being didn't seem like a Precursor—at least according to its aura. The way it magically revealed itself before he could collect the water meant this was the guardian Mimir.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Allfather?” Mimir spoke in a cold, gravelly voice.

Odin slowly sheathed his sword, raising his hands as a sign of good-faith. “I mean no harm. I wish only to drink from your waters.”

“Then you must know my price.”

“Price?”

“Worldly knowledge isn't given up freely,” Mimir explained. “An exchange must be made.”

A feeling of dread plummeted down the pits of his stomach. What could he offer to a guardian? Surely, any materialistic possessions he owned were traded along his travels for the comfort of food and shelter. His sword was out of the question, so that only left . . .

“Alright,” he stated, his gaze unwavering and firm. “If it is my magic you want—”

“No.”

Odin remained baffled. “Then what would you suggest I give, if not my magic?”

The figure contemplated on this for a moment before extending a bony hand towards the Precursor. “Prophecy for knowledge.”

An eye? Surely the being wasn't serious. Anyone would kill to acquire his god-like magic to use as their own. No one who roamed the earth had such gifts as he when he had been created. This guardian clearly had the upper hand in the bargain, so why hadn't it taken the opportunity in accepting the previous exchange?

Well, if an eye is what it wanted, then an eye is what it will receive. He had come too far to turn around now. If it was one thing he loathed more than betrayal was the humiliation in being a failure.

Retrieving a dagger from his belt, the Allfather stared contemplating at the metallic blade before plunging the pointed edge into the corner of his left eye socket. Pained shouts escaped his lips as he quickly carved out the piece until it fell into the guardian’s awaiting palm. Blood oozed out from the hollow hole, some landing on the ground as he covered the gap. With a few muttered words, a light shone through the cracks of his fingers. He deftly released his face, staring at the being with his new glass orb that filled the space where his eye had been.

Mimir held onto the token, stepping aside to gesture towards the pond. “One sip.”

With a grunt, Odin removed his cloak and dove into the water. He remained submerged up to the waist, scooping the horn around him until the liquid practically overflowed from the rim. Without hesitation, the Precursor took one long swallow, tilting his head back so that no single drop was left to waste.

The world spun around him as he bent over in pain. The sounds of his companions from ashore was left deaf to him. Darkness was the only thing he saw until he opened his eyes to the vast numbers and equations revealing themselves in the skies.

He laughed in disbelief, suddenly realizing he was no longer in the pool. In fact, there didn't seem to be anything visible in the empty space he found himself in. Mimir, the world tree, and his animal companions were nowhere to be found. All that was left was the cosmic knowledge extending far beyond space and time.

_At long last!_

He marveled at the future events unfurling before him. To finally know how to cure all diseases and acquire more resources for everyone left a satisfying feeling inside his heart. Soon his civilization will master devices made by their hands and flourish beyond continents. They will dominate the lands at their disposal without fear of dying out. Happiness will reign among them for generations. All of this they can achieve once he shares with them what he had discovered. And he, the benevolent of them all to have found such information, will be revered as a god.

As he searched through the equations, Odin was suddenly struck down by images running across the expanse void. They revealed a crumbling world where the ground shook and fire licked at the dying earth. All the screams shook him to the core, the smile faltering from his face at witnessing such a catastrophe befalling on a civilization that was all too familiar to him. “No, it can't be.”

But the numbers never lie. What he had glimpsed at was the destruction of his home. Buildings collapsed on top of innocent women and children Precursor by lightning strikes. Harsh winds tossed them all down the awaiting fire from below the ground. Amidst the chaos he saw Precursors being massacred by creatures that mirrored their image as both sides clashed to the death. What horrors had he just witnessed?

He reached a hand out towards the dying and wounded holograms as if he could save them. The sounds from his companions snapped the Allfather out of his reverie and thrusted him back to the present.

He stumbled away from the water as if it had wounded him. “What did I see?”

“You were never meant to witness the end.”

“End?” Odin bellowed furiously, driving a fist in front of him. “There is no end! We were made to live on this earth. How can you tell me we would end? Us, Precursors? The most powerful, most advanced beings to have ever walked this earth!?”

The guardian nervously watched Odin drink more water from the wellspring.

“Stop! Only a sip is all you get!”

“I must find a solution.” Odin refused to listen to reason, continuously lapping up at the water as more numbers and equations began clouding his mind. “We will endure. This I swear by it.”

A gust of wind lifted the Precursor out of the pond, droplets of water raining down on the flushed humanoid. His beard remained plastered against his body, raising his head as a long shadow prevented him from seeing ahead. All he felt was the excruciating heat searing his skin, picking up a charred leaf that soon crumbled in his grasp.

_The tree._

Fire trailed along the bark of the tree. The ravens flew off their perch and crowed in alarm as the thick branches snapped from the base and fell towards the ground. The earth surrounding the roots immediately withered away into dry twigs. It wasn't until he saw the water begin to dry up did he realize his mistake.

“Foolish Precursor,” Mimir seethed, glowing from the embers surrounding them. “Disobeying a guardian, all in the name of greed. Your betrayal will not go unpunished.”

The shadowy figure lifted a bony finger to lay a curse upon the ignorant who dared steal from him. The true nature of Odin’s most loyal companions began to be revealed. Soon, the birds of death, afflicted by the curse, circled their master and filled his sight with a song that foretold the demise of his loved ones and all the lost souls trapped in this realm. The image of a beautiful woman with a round belly struck his heart, and he could do nothing but watch the foretold future where his wife and unborn child die from something he couldn't see.

“Stop it!” Tears ran down his face as the ravens continued singing around his head. More images filled him, this time of the trapped souls mourning across the earth, where no one could hear their plights. “Enough!”

“Painful, isn't it?” Mimir taunted. “Such suffering. I wonder, do you know the meaning of such a loss?”

Through stinging eyes, Odin watched the guardian strike his beasts with unholy magic. Bile rose in his throat from watching their coats bathe in a mist as dark as his heart had been. Like their brethrens, the beasts stalked around their vulnerable master. They licked their sharp teeth in hunger before sinking into his exposed flesh. He tried shaking them off but instead swiped at nothing. The energy contained inside him slowly drained away as they stole a portion of his magic. They were fueled by his blood alone.

Once the torment ended, with the animals finally retreating away from their former master, the ancient Precursor laid kneeling on the ground where dark feathers surrounded him in a ring. Laying helpless in his scars and blood, he couldn't help but pity all the souls he’d forsaken for the sake of power. But the only person he felt pity for was himself.

A brutal kick to his side had the fallen Precursor lying on his back, staring into the gleaming eyes of the guardian that shone beneath the shade. “How does it feel to be defeated, Allfather? Fear not. You are not alone in your misery. Your loved ones will too suffer the curse, and any children they bear. Until the time is right.”

“Wretched beast!” He spat blood on the guardian’s robes, writhing beneath his enemy as he watched his former wolves morph into spheres of energy before vanishing from thin air. “Your head is mine!”

With the sword firmly grasped in hand, the Allfather shoved the guardian aside by lifting the full weight of his body off the ground. The vines coming off the dead earth ensnared Mimir, twining around its wrists in an iron grip. Rage filled the Precursor, feeling something dark forming inside of him from listening to the strangled cries of his enemy. No one threatened his family and lived to see another day.

He beheaded the guardian so that his own suffering may end. The heavy burden in his heart was too much to bear. All of this he had no one to blame but him alone. Arrogant pride and greed costed him the lives of his loved ones. Even if his own body naturally cleansed itself from physical injuries, the damage to his heart had already taken him down the road of regret.

The decapitated head of Mimir was lifted off the ground and secured within his palm as a reminder of what had transpired. His free hand clenched onto the staff for support, willing his aching feet to move past the dying tree and away from the path he originally took on this journey.

He never stepped foot back into Precursor civilization ever again.


	3. Chapter 2

_Years later_

 

“Concentrate,” her mentor advised, encircling his apprentice with a keen eye. “Purge your mind from distractions. Feel the magic coursing through your veins.”

The female warrior calmly took even breaths, holding her sword at eye-level before shutting her thoughts. She felt her insides burn from the spoken words uttered from her lips, bringing the cool edge of the blade down her open palm. Blood coated the surface until it was soaked up by the artifact. With narrowed eyes, the Precursor grasped onto the newly fashioned giant sword, lunging at the dummy with a single fatal blow.

Myrddin nodded approvingly at the broken dummy, which was now split in two halves. “Very good, Morrigan. That concludes our training for today.”

Morrigan blinked away hot flashes, leaning against the wall for support. “I don't think I did it right . . .”

“That's because you do not know how to conserve your energy,” he chastised time and time again, as if she should have studied such a thing that didn't even exist in the books. “Use too much, and your enemy gains the upper hand.”

“Let me try again.” She tried lifting her giant sword, but the weight of the weapon only dragged her down. If it weren't for her mentor keeping her upright she would have collapsed from the exertion.

The air distorted, and suddenly the weapon was no longer in her grasp but rather materialized into the awaiting palm of her mentor. “I think not. Rest. Tomorrow we begin anew.”

She bit the inside of her cheek in protest. While she preferred to hone her skills, there was no use in continuing her lessons if she could barely keep herself in check. “Thank you, mentor.”

Hushed whispers trailed behind the warrior down every corridor she turned. Every time she glanced up at a passerby, they would simply divert their attention elsewhere. Sometimes, there were those brave enough to stare her in the eye with a look of disgust. Not like it bothered her anyway. Such actions she grew accustomed to ever since her birth. She, an enigma among her own kind. A threat to all who crossed her.

Deep down she knew the loathing manifested because of her unique existence, for possessing powers that even they couldn't comprehend or imitate. Looking down at her hands, she noted the same humanoid flesh that everyone bore. So similar, yet so different. _What did I do to deserve this treatment?_

All thoughts centered around one Precursor who was responsible for her lonely upbringing. She never met her uncle, though stories from her mother helped draw upon her own conclusions. To her, the powerful Precursor was nothing more than an uncaring man who abandoned his duties time and time again for his selfish desires. She was glad she hadn't the fortune in confronting him face-to-face, for she didn't think she could stand his presence while she recounted over a million scenarios that involved his head on a silver platter.

It was because of him she had to suffer through the torture of losing a family member throughout the years. Njord. Borr. Freyr. Björn. Other nameless relatives with some relation to her mother. All of them doomed into succumbing to the darkness.

Thinking about Freyja left a hollow feeling vacating her heart. It was a miracle her mother had been one of few to overcome the wretched curse, especially when she had been pregnant with Morrigan. But the woman had suffered a great toll on her body to the point where she laid bedridden—most likely will stay that way for the rest of her days. Morrigan feared she would return to her home one day and find her mother asleep without ever waking up. As of now, there hadn't been any visions of her death, something that relieved her immensely.

Her walk around the civilization came to an end at the great tree. Calmness overtook her senses, feeling at one with nature. Hidden beneath the golden foliage is the Apple that contained knowledge of their advanced civilization. Besides keeping extensive record of their history, it can also be used as a weapon, which was most often manipulated in bending their human slaves to their will. Of course, very few granted permission by the elders were allowed to go near the item, so she decided to observe the colossal tree from a distance.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

Morrigan turned towards the elder woman in the room with a mix of shock and admiration. “Minerva! I-I didn't mean to intrude . . .”

“No need to explain yourself.” The strawberry- blonde haired beauty stood beside the warrior, hands elegantly clasped together. “Sometimes I too come here for solitude.”

This surprised the Precursor. To think that her idol was here having a decent conversation without looking down upon her as vermin only increased her respect for her elder. “The world tree?”

“Vessel of universal knowledge.” Minerva caught a stray yellow leaf between the pads of her humanoid fingers. There was a far-off look in her eyes as she gently toyed with the item. “Years of searching, and all that was salvaged were saplings.”

“Salvaged?” Her eyebrows furrowed before returning her gaze to the tree. “What happened to it before?”

“I'm sure your mother has told you of Odin?” Seeing the annoyed countenance upon the young woman’s face affirmed her suspicions. “On his quest for knowledge, he crossed paths with the guardian of the tree and its waters. The dead body of the guardian was recovered. But the water had all but dried up before our arrival. What was left of the tree turned to ashes.”

And beneath the ashes they must have discovered seeds waiting to be planted anew, she mused. In actuality, it was the tree rather than the wellspring that provided cosmic knowledge. Because the water flowed from the tree it too retained some of its properties. Same principle also applied to the seeds. To think, that the knowledge of the world could have been lost forever by one Precursor’s ambitions in angering a guardian.

“We were all devastated by the betrayal,” Minerva continued, releasing the leaf as it was carried by the wind. “For students to be abandoned by their master. We had no choice but to move forward. Now, what little knowledge remains, we safeguard it. For the Apple to store traces of our history.”

“I thought it was forbidden to mention his name,” Morrigan commented offhandedly.

“It is. I thought you should know why considering . . .”

_Considering I'm related to him._

They stood in silence, admiring the beautiful tree. With the new information, Morrigan began to understand that what she made her uncle out to be were in fact true. Hearing confirmation about his abandonment somehow didn't feel as satisfying as she had originally hoped. If anything, she couldn't help but wonder if the Precursor ever felt any amount of remorse over how his actions affected everyone around her.

No, an inner voice protested against the thought of any good inside the chief Precursor. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left behind his home—left all those dear to him. He could have asked for forgiveness. Instead he chose to run away like a coward.

There had been one nagging feeling that refused to go away. Something that continued to embody her life and the lives of her future descendants. “And the curse? Because of him we suffer for our lives—my family and I. How did it happen?”

Minerva’s mouth was set in a line. “That I am uncertain. You will have to ask him yourself.”

“He's alive?” She stared wide-eyed at her elder, anxiously grabbing onto her arms. “Where can I find him?”

“Morrigan, no one has seen him in eons. To go looking for him . . .” Minerva shook her head at the thought, gently removing the young woman’s hands. “It is of no use. Best leave it at that.”

As the wise Precursor ventured away from the spot, Morrigan couldn't help but revisit their conversation. It pained her knowing Odin may be alive somewhere far away without knowing how empty their society progressed through the years without his presence. Despite finding ways in protecting the earth and creating human species in their image, they all hoped their former master had been there to share in their success.

She had so many questions to ask, and each response didn't satisfy her curiosity. Why hadn't Odin returned? Why must she bear the curse for something she had no fault over? Why is she different from the rest?

An orange light fell upon the horizon, signaling the end of day. No longer were the streets filled with roaming Precursors as it had during the day. Soon the shadows emerged from their hiding spots and dominated the earth. For Morrigan, she welcomed the darkness as if it never left her.

The door creaked heavily upon entering her home. She called out into the empty area to let the occupant of the house know she had safely returned. It would be a while until she was expected to patrol the streets, which gave her enough time in caring for her ailing mother. After mixing and cutting up herbs for the soup, the redhead took the steaming bowl upstairs.

She rapped on the door several times, faintly listening to the scuffles across the floor. “Mother?”

No answer.

Turning the handle, the Precursor entered the room only to be bombarded by hyperactive wolves pawing at her legs. She held the bowl at an arm’s length while greeting them with adoring words, thankful that none of the liquid had sloshed onto the floor. With caution, she weaved through the open spaces so she could reach the unmoving body settled on top of the bed.

“Morrigan?” Freyja turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. Strands of blonde hair stayed plastered against her shiny forehead, puffy eyes staring unblinking at her daughter. “Are you here, with me?”

“Yes, I'm here.” Morrigan slung a chair beside the bed before taking a seat in front of her mother. “I made soup. To help you feel better.”

Freyja made no reply, only parting her lips as the spoon full of broth went into her mouth. She fed her mother until the sick woman couldn't swallow anymore. Sometime during the feeding process, the wolves had mounted the bed and curled into one another while affectionately licking their mistress’s hand. Such a display almost painted a serene picture, but it was anything but calming.

Shortly afterwards, her mother had mentioned something about needing to rest, with Morrigan keeping a diligent watch over her. She would linger her gaze on the wolf nestled close to her mother's body, the one with colors that mirrored Freyja’s, wondering how such a strong woman could be reduced to such a weak state. Her mother’s bond had been successful because her love for Odin had been a test of her undying devotion for the Precursor. To think her uncle could have had a hand in saving their lives made her question the reality of the situation. How could he abandon family, especially one who adored him enough to face death?

 _I will find you_ , she vowed in solemn promise, staring out the window where she saw vast land beyond towering buildings of civilization. _If you're out there, I will find you. I will drag you back myself and make you regret the moment you left us to fend for our lives._


	4. Chapter 3

The first signs of disaster presented itself some time ago when the Apple had been stolen by Adam and Eve.

A great pandemic of outrage embodied the minds of every single Precursor since then. To have mere humans— _their creations_ —rebel against them incited a desire to capture the ones responsible for stealing such a prized artifact in the first place. And yet hidden beneath the surface was an overwhelming fear over the many possibilities that can happen if the humans decided to use the artifact against them.

But that was only the beginning.

In addition to the Apple, the majority of the Pieces of Eden were stolen from the artifact room, mostly the ones that can potentially harm Precursor. Although they were mortal beings with longer life spans, the Precursor race in general could very well be identified as gods. Their bodies could withstand certain extremes, and not to mention the abnormal regenerative properties they possessed. A human couldn't harm them without being killed on the spot; hybrids may inflict minimal damage due to sharing similar properties with their Precursor counterparts, yet not enough to kill them. However, since the Pieces of Eden had been created out of their code— _their very essence of living_ —which the hybrids too shared in their helix, the enemy may have found a way in gaining the upper hand in this war.

That is how their enemies plan on extinguishing the Precursor race: using their own devices against them.

It was because of these unfortunate events that Morrigan found herself strolling underneath the shady canopies of the trees with a bundle secured in her arms. She couldn't live with herself if her hybrid child had been discovered by the humans. Even her Precursor brethrens were unaware of its existence, fearing they would prod the child with experiments like they had done to her throughout most of her childhood. If they couldn't determine the source of her powers and curse, what makes them think she would willingly allow them to continue subjecting her son to the same torture? No, best keep him with someone who could take care of him while she went off to war.

She kissed the infant’s cheek with a sad fondness. Since the death of her mother, it had been difficult imagining a life without her family. As promised, Morrigan transferred her mother’s Mana into her code under Freyja’s wishes. She didn't care that she would have to undergo the bond process a second time; she'd do anything to keep a piece of her departed mother alive.

Along with Freyja’s death came the sudden disappearance of her mentor, Myrddin. If not for him leaving, she would have entrusted her child into his care instead of trekking long distances for the father. Her mentor had shown her how to control her magic and battle the curse because of his past affiliations with her uncle—it always dawned on her how he knew such information when no one else did. While her son may not have the benefit of being trained under an expert, he would still need guidance in overcoming the curse and learning how to control his magic until she returned.

The snap of twigs from the right had the young mother protectively cradling the sleeping child, holding a hand out in case she needed to incinerate the intruder. She had taken this route in secret numerous of times when her affair began years ago, and always found nature welcoming her arrival. Now with the war, her enemy could prepare a surprise ambush at any turn.

Upon seeing who had emerged into the clearing did she ease in her stance. She adjusted the swathed blanket over the child before accepting the fierce hug from her former lover. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. I didn't know who else to turn to.”

Ulrik nodded, light eyes trailing after the dark bird flying towards its master. “I received your . . . message. I promise you, he will be taken care of.”

Handing over the child into the outstretched arms of the father had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. “I-I put a spell for him to sleep well. He should awake any day now. Stay hidden in the Vault until it is safe. You remember the way?”

“Of course.” The human male briefly looked over the trail that lead to one of the cave entrances leading underground. “Just beyond the cliffs. And you?”

“I must stay and fight.”

“After what you told me about the visions?” There was a touch of concern in his tone that made her wonder if he would try and stop her. “Best save yourself while you still can. You don't owe them your life.”

There was truth to his words as much as she hated to admit. There weren't any obligations keeping her from participating in the war, yet she couldn't let the humans ruin what little peace they had left on this earth. Such a vision she would never forget.

In the surreal environment, she had seen the bloodshed spilling onto the earth from the battle between humans and Isu. Determining a victor was impossible to tell amidst the chaos, though the Pieces of Eden that the humans used against their former masters made her wonder if she was witnessing the end of Precursor kind. Among those fighting was a figure of herself donned in armor like the one she wore now, giving a loud cry before slicing her enemies with _Obsidian_. The sky turned grey before the screams of the dying assaulted her senses. And then smoke surrounded the battlefield, plunging both sides in darkness.

From there she didn't know if the foretold future had been a warning of her death or of something greater, but she wouldn't run away. Nothing good ever came out in being a coward. If it was her fate, she would face it through without hesitation. Whatever the outcome.

“They're my family,” she protested, even though the excuse didn't hide her true feelings towards her brethrens. “I cannot abandon my duties as a Precursor.”

“ _We_ are your family. They are the enemy. Or have you forgotten why the war started?”

“Believe me, I never agreed with the idea of enslaving humankind.” Morrigan cupped his chin so he had no choice but to stare into her knowing gaze. “Neither do I agree in stealing the Pieces of Eden, then threatening an entire civilization to extinction. The fault is not on us Precursor alone.”

A bitter laugh emitted from the male, leaning against her palm. “What are we doing? Why are we doing this?”

The corner of her mouth lifted in humor. “Surviving. To have a better future.”

“There is no future without you.”

His confession startled the warrior. Time seemed to stand still with the sunlight basking over the unmoving figures. There may have been a better time and place where she could imagine herself submitting to her desire in raising a family than risking her life on the battlefield. But having a life now where they constantly had to avoid detection from either sides wasn't something that can be done without affecting either of them. Precursors already shunned their creations and any hybrids produced between the two species. Humans hated Precursors with an equal passion.

No matter where they went, hate would follow. Peace between the two species would be impossible to achieve. Ending this war seemed to be the only option. If only she could make him understand.

She wrapped her arms around Ulrik’s neck, letting herself commit the feel of him to memory before kissing him in farewell. “I will return once this is over. Keep him safe.”

With the swish of her feathered train, the Precursor transformed into the bird of death and flew for miles into the clouds. She didn't need to rely on her senses to know when she neared the scene, for death lingered everywhere.

One particular scuffle involved several humans cornering a Precursor, immediately morphing back into her original form. The air roared in her ears as she plummeted to the ground with her sword raised high above her head. Before the human could find the source of the battle cry, her body crushed on top of him while the sword plunged into its backside, the ground cracking in impact from the god-like strength.

Her golden eyes blazed in fury, silently challenging her opponents in making the next move. She parried the raised spears lunging for her heart, twirling her stained blade across their stomachs. The distinct thud of their bodies landing on the floor fueled the bloodlust. Even the ones trying to kill her using the Pieces of Eden were unsuccessful, for her magic nullified the effects of the artifacts before they can do any physical damage.

_There are too many of them._

Despite her exceptional swordsmanship skills, the humans overpowered them in vast numbers. She couldn't remember ever seeing so many of them multiply over the years. If she wasn't too careful, they could attack from all sides without giving her time to dodge their blows. At a moment like this she would have to use her powers to prevent her imminent death.

“Head for cover,” she instructed the Precursor she aided earlier. “Don't attack unless they're blinded.”

The words easily flowed from her lips, a glowing light emitting from her hands. Her narrowed eyes focused on the running figures heading downhill from a distance. A thick mist began rising up from the ground, focusing her energy in hindering the sights of her enemies. The barbaric shouts became hushed inside the dense cloud, giving her the perfect opportunity in striking from within.

Blood sputtered onto the ground as the dark blade sliced at their throats. Flashes of red weaved through the narrow spaces left open by the flustered enemies. The further she moved into the war the more she began noticing the heavy armors worn by the enemy. Sometimes she would stagger back when her sword hit against hard steel, taking her time in striking a second time before her opponent fell dead. Upon halting in front of a sluggish soldier, with a battle axe about to crash down upon the Precursor, she manipulated the fog so that lightning struck her rival and every human trapped inside. Once every human laid dead did the fog move towards another section, revealing a graveyard of flesh bodies.

They were winning.

A sudden chill ran down her spine as her sword clashed with another, peering down at the shadows extending far beyond the earth. Blackness shrouded her vision, finding no light inside the sanctuary of her magic. _I've seen this before._

“Morrigan!” Another Precursor bumped into her from behind, dodging the lightning strike that aimed for his feet. “Stop this at once!”

“It's not my doing!”

Brown hues watched in horror as the lightning strikes sporadically came down from the sky. Next came the rumbling sensation below her feet, panic settling in as the fires sparked over the green landscape. Cracks ran outward from the base of her heels and along the pebbled dirt. It wasn't until she glanced back at the horizon where buildings of their civilization crumbled did she become bombarded with the cries of the dying. She needed to escape.

Every time she made an effort in saving a wounded Precursor, they would either get burned to a crisp or fall into the wide fissures before her hand could grab their wrists. Tears sprang into her eyes from all the black dust, careful in sidestepping the obstacles in her path. When it became dangerous stepping on the uneven ground, Morrigan decided the best course of action was to take cover among the skies.

She shape-shifted into a raven and fled as far as her burning lungs could carry her. Never will she forget the day when destruction rained upon the earth and all its inhabitants, as it had been predicted from the very beginning.


	5. Chapter 4

The humid air scorched throughout the barren wasteland, the sun’s rays basking across the dry soil. Hardly any trees remained during the aftermath of the solar flare, making it easier for the woman to perspire from the lack of shade that used to be provided by the thick foliage.

Morrigan observed her surroundings, flaming curls plastered against her forehead. Weeks on end safeguarding the temple underneath the heat made her extremely disoriented. She desperately prayed that the triad manage to find a solution to all of their sufferings before she fainted from heatstroke. How long have they been cooped up in there?

Anyone would’ve gone raving mad if they were forced to stay another week caged inside the dark temple. For the warrior, she needed to glance at the lush green surroundings and breathe in the fresh air, look upon the vast sky instead of the dreary stone walls. At least Minerva had been kind enough to sense her restlessness and task her with guarding the outskirts of the Grand Temple for intruders. 

When the flare subsided, the earth had been left in ruins. The flames had burned for weeks before dying out. Dust and ashes contaminated the fresh air, and buried over thousands of lifeless bodies belonging to humans and Precursors alike. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be the only flare to ever impact the earth.

Because the effects of the flare were so devastating for either sides, the survivors called a truce in order to save their energies in reviving the planet. Even with the temporary pact among human and Precursor, there were still those that would take any opportunity in attacking the other side. Hence why it was important in keeping the Temple safe as her elders ran more tests in preventing another solar flare from repeating its destructive tune.

After many failed attempts, one would assume that Minerva, Jupiter, and Juno would give up, but all three were willing to accomplish their mission—whatever the costs. The female warrior was more surprised when Juno recommenced after the six trial that involved Aita’s sacrifice. She could still recall the shrill cries that vacated the temple walls, the tears streaming down Juno’s face while she held onto her husband’s limp hand. But what had sent her on edge were the cold eyes boring pure malice and hatred.

The others hadn’t noticed, misinterpreting it as utter sorrow and believing the woman needed comfort after losing her lover, but Morrigan knew better. She had encountered that same hostility from the men she had slain in battle during the war, and she was suddenly aware that Juno can easily betray them without remorse. It was only a matter of time.

Out of the three elders, Morrigan never liked Juno, for she had been one of many Precursor to scorn her existence. As much as she would love to run her blade through the woman’s back, the others wouldn’t take it kindly if one of their own killed another Precursor out of spite. Besides, Juno was _valuable_ to their cause in reviving the planet and preventing another solar flare from scorching through the atmosphere. As if they needed her.

Staring down at the humanoid flesh, the female warrior couldn't help but let her mind wander over to Ulrik and their son. Last she seen them had been shortly before the battle, hoping he had followed her instructions in staying below ground. If she mentally counted, her son should already be close to seven years of age, according to human standard years. What if he already showed signs of the curse? Would he form a bond with the beast, or turn into one like her deceased relatives?

The disturbing notion left her blood to run cold. “No, I must have faith. He will succeed. Otherwise, all that would be left is pure madness.”

The sun had already made its descent, gradually sinking into the horizon as flashes of pink and orange remained in the sky. Despite not hearing the calls of the birds, just observing the painted sky was all it took to take her mind off things—more specifically off her son. Her Mana took on its physical form to comfort the Precursor in her hour of brooding.

A whizzing noise had her instantly shoot up from her spot, her steel sword withdrawn while she got into her fighting stance. The wolf beside her growled, spine curving as sharp teeth glinted at the Precursor dressed in white robes, who strolled through the clearing once the fields were shut down.

Morrigan faltered a bit, quizzically eyeing the pale woman. “Juno . . . you look well. What brings you outside?”

Juno sneered at the creature in front of her. “Minerva wishes to see you.”

At the mention of the other Precursor, Morrigan lowered her weapon. “Really? What for?”

“How should I know? I’m only doing what she asked of me.” Juno coyly leveled her stern gaze over the woman’s disheveled appearance, from the wild red hair loosely tied down over her sun-kissed shoulder to the black attire adorned with raven feathers. “You don’t look too good. You could assist our friends instead of being useless sitting around here, abandoning your responsibilities.”

“ _My_ responsibilities are making sure your very lives are protected. Do not test me, lest you prefer being slaughtered by mere humans in your sleep.”

A shudder crawled down her spine, not liking the knowing look on Juno’s face as the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. She clenched her jaw, staying rooted in place while the snarky woman casually took a strand of her long curly lock and rubbed it in between her fingers as if it were mere dust.

“No matter how much you want to prove yourself, you’ll never be like us,” her cold voice taunted.

She snatched her hair away, noting the other female walking away from the Temple. “And where do you think you're going?”

“As if it’s any of your business.”

The nerve of her! How she longed to get her hands around her neck and choke the life out of her. She was beginning to worry that the woman was up to no good—nothing was ever calm whenever Juno was concerned. Did Minerva and Jupiter know where she was heading? 

If she happened to stumble across Juno, she knew without a doubt that she would have to face the woman’s wrath for not respecting her privacy, and then they would get into a heated argument that would last for days on end. Then again, what if the woman isolated herself from the rest of her friends in order to formulate plans that resulted in their downfall?

_One thing at a time, Morrigan._

Deciding on the best course of action, the Precursor fled inside the temple with her animal companion where Minerva patiently waited. “You wanted to see me?”

The elder woman nodded before descending down the floating steps, gesturing for her to follow. “I’ve been investing my time in constructing an important artifact that may fix everything. It’s not much, but I believe it can change our future for the better.”

Deep within the Temple were fast-moving pillars floating mid-air, with bright blue light traveling across the fissures of the stones. She never knew what they were for, but if she had to guess the lights acted as some sort of power cell that housed the entire temple, from the advanced machines to the force fields. Once again, the redhead was awed and envious by her colleagues’ innovative minds.

During their walk down the lower levels, she made sure to divulge information of Juno’s suspicious behavior. Anger seared through her veins when her idol refused taking action, instead choosing to remain aloof to Juno’s emotions and focus more on the second solar flare. While she understood the importance of preventing another catastrophe after the first one drastically wiped out almost their entire race, concerns were still raised over their comrade. _She doesn’t understand Juno’s twisted mind, not like I do. I’ve seen far greater horrors than they have._

But she bit her tongue and silently followed the strawberry-blonde woman. The last thing she needed was to come across as childish and persistent. Besides, Minerva already had enough on her plate. Jupiter surely wouldn’t listen to her; he was too busy inventing other methods of saving the planet to even work alongside his colleague, and Morrigan half-wondered if he even existed anymore.

They strode through a narrow passageway, encircling the pedestal that protruded from the ground. A soft glow shone from the middle of the pedestal, illuminating their faces in an eerie light. Brown eyes curiously roamed over the flashing green orb, her fingers itching to caress the majestic artifact, but she withdrew her hand when Minerva looked her way. 

Brushing aside her crimson curls, Morrigan peered closer to the artifact, careful in not touching it. “What is it?”

“The Eye. It’s not quite finished. It lacks the necessary information required to end the flare.”

Even without looking at her face, she felt this uneasy sensation radiating off of Minerva. Her skin crawled just by absorbing the woman’s bad aura—she couldn’t reasonably blame the freezing temperature around the temple for it. Something was bothering her elder.

“Minerva?” Her raven feathers skimmed past her thighs, shifting into her full height. “Is something wrong?”

The cold hand that touched her shoulder made her wince. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t ask this of you, but if what you say is true about Juno, then I fear the Eye is vulnerable. I need you to protect it with your very life until I’ve made sure all the preparations are complete.”

A sudden sense of pride overcame her. In all her years serving the Precursors as their protector, she had never imagined Minerva above all people to entrust her with something so significant as safeguarding one of the most life-changing tools to have ever been created. Her heart fluttered at the thought of finally being needed.

The resonating noise throughout the temple had both women retreating into the main corridor, watching Juno enter once the shields were down. Her long white robes bristled over her body, the soft padding of her feet moving down the stairs. Not once did she spare a glance at the two. And yet something glinted beneath the yellow irises. Was she also . . . smiling?

_This isn’t good._

Hands hastily grabbed onto the handle of her sword, waiting for the right moment to retract the weapon out of its sheath. Her narrowed eyes scrutinized the woman’s face, cautiously stepping back the same time Juno calmly came towards them. Even her own Mana suspected something horrendous was about to happen, arching its back for battle.

“Minerva, Morrigan,” the temptress coolly greeted beyond the low growls, though her venomous eyes lingered more on the warrior. “Is it ready?”

Minerva shook her head. “Not quite. Where have you been, sister? We were worried you would never show up.”

“Just enjoying the fresh air.” Morrigan mentally scoffed at that ridiculous notion, knowing well that Juno hated the outdoors. “I happened to take notice of intruders near the temple. I managed to dispose some of them.”

“Some?”

“You know how they breed like vermins,” she commented in disgust. “A few got away before I could sink my hands into them. Of course, if _she_ hadn’t been so careless in her duties, we wouldn’t have to risk being discovered.”

A shriek escaped past Minerva’s lips when the metallic sword sinfully curved over the humanoid flesh of Juno’s neck. Her animal companion caged the prisoner from the other side to prepare to retaliate if the enemy made any movement that would harm its mistress.

Morrigan glared at her prisoner, ignoring the warning from her elder in retracting her blade. She pushed Juno further into the pillar until the stone practically scraped her back, whispering so no one but the two could hear. “Let this be a lesson to you. I’m onto your schemes. If you dare harm us in any way, I won’t hesitate in ending your life.”

Despite her blatant warning, Juno gave a comical laugh. She tilted her head at her colleague. “Minerva, have you checked on the girl? She seems to be going mad. Must be the exposure from the sun; she looks about ready to collapse.”

She hadn’t noticed it until now, but her hands were trembling profusely. It might’ve been Juno toying with her again, but then how would it explain the dizzying motion she was experiencing? For a long time she had gone without eating anything, and her body couldn’t withstand going days without nourishment. Just thinking about enjoying a warm meal made her mouth water.

Minerva supported the woman’s falling frame, brushing her hair aside like her mother used to do when she was in pain. “Why don’t you rest, my dear?”

“But the Eye—”

“No need. I’ll stand guard for now. The sleeping quarters are over there, along with any food you might like.” She pointed to the elongated beds peeking from the wall by the far side of the temple, further away from the entrance. “Are you sure you can make it alone?”

“Yes . . .”

No one bothered to offer her any assistance—not like she wanted their pity, anyway. Her legs willed themselves to move forward, hissing from the excruciating pain. Despite the uncomfortable sensation, she kept her chin up, signaling for her companion to follow closely behind her.

As she departed from her colleagues, Morrigan couldn't help but take notice of the victorious smirk crossing Juno’s face.


	6. Chapter 5

Images of a young boy and his father reflected back from the water basin. A warm smile graced the Precursor’s face from finally seeing her family safe and very much alive. The weight of the world was suddenly lifted from her shoulders, leaving her to worry on making sure her son survived the curse meant to tear away at his sanity.

When all of this was over, she planned on returning to the Vault so she could be part of their lives. Years of separation had made her sick with worry and longing. How she missed holding them in her arms! But until they figured out a solution to the second flare, she wouldn't return. No reason to get her hopes up when another threat remained at large. Then there was her mother’s unbonded Mana.

Unlike her previous one, Freyja’s Mana was persistent in overpowering it's mistress’s heir. If it weren't for her magic already gifted to her from her own spirit, she may have already been lured to the darkness. It took a lot of her energy just containing the entity so that it didn't invade her thoughts during all hours of the day. There had to be some trick to winning this game while keeping her sanity intact.

Energy hummed through her veins, feeling the vibrations send off a warning to her mind. Her spirit sensed something. Better secure the temple, she thought, grabbing _Obsidian_ from under the bed before exiting her chambers.

No amount of warmth filtered in from the outside, having been extinguished by the shadows crawling over the expanse of the temple hours ago. The blue lights from the polished stones were her only sources in navigating through the maze, surveying every creeping corner. Whoever chose to invade the temple wouldn't get the advantage in catching her off guard.

Morrigan halted in her track, squinting at the uncanny gleam illuminating from the narrow passage of the control room. _The Eye!_

Thoughts immediately pinpointed Juno as the perpetrator as her feet hypnotically moved into the blinding light while her arms balanced the weight of the sword onto her shoulder. Feeling the cool blade rest upon her exposed skin was thrilling, especially when she would finally get to behead the madwoman for her misdoings.

“Minerva’s orders,” Morrigan proudly remarked, as if it was a clear justification for her actions. “She’s interfering, therefore she must be eliminated.”

She wasn’t at all surprised to find Juno slouching over the pedestal with pale fingers gliding over the stone while beams of light shot out of her body. The warrior assumed she was transferring her power into the Eye, but for what purpose was there in weakening herself? Why would she frenzy over an incomplete tool?

All Minerva told her was that the Eye would be the key to their future and to all of their problems, but she forgot to lay out the most important thing about the Eye: its function. She knew that Minerva meant no ill-intent—she is the only Precursor whom she could relate to—yet if Morrigan didn’t know about the Eye’s qualities then how was she supposed to keep her promise in preserving the artifact? So far luck wasn’t on her side.

“Juno!” she hollered through the screeching hiss of beams. “I command you to step back!”

**Really?**

She reared her head around the control room, looking for the owner of the voice. It didn’t sound as if the voice came from the Juno by the pedestal, in fact it came from all around her. What is she playing at?

Fingers tightly held onto the hilt of the sword, her breaths coming in short falls as she inspected the vicinity for any signs of the real Juno. Perspiration slid down her forehead just by looking at the copy in front of her, not understanding how the holographic image could be able to conjure up so much power. She'd be damned if Juno took another victory over her.

“This ends now.” Morrigan allowed the sharp edge to graze her skin, chanting Latin phrases in one dark spell. Blood trickled from her slit wrist and onto the sword, staining through her reflection on the jet black steel. Symbols flared across the side of the blade, the heat instantly dying out to reveal the embedded marks. Unnatural power surged throughout every muscle of her body before a spark of light expanded the width of the blade.

Her toned arms allowed for the heavy weight to be carried, making a single swipe across the doppelganger’s torso. However, it couldn't make direct contact, for the Precursor fell through the distorted hologram.

“Where are you?” the warrior hollered, angrily climbing the stairs to check the top platform for her enemy. “Coward, why don’t you fight me!? Afraid you’ll be slaughtered?”

**Foolish woman. I will enslave all of mankind and you along with it.**

The chilling laugh sent goosebumps crawling over her body, boots kicking against the stones below her as she wildly dashed around the temple. All along she had suspicions that the devil woman was up to something; she should’ve acted out when she had the chance outside the temple. Juno had been too engrossed in her own anger and vengeance to even care about saving the planet. So long as the Precursor accomplished her goals, no one would be safe from her judgment.

Locating Juno’s hiding place had been difficult, for there wasn't any corner she had already checked twice. The battering ache against her skull made her tire from the agony. She couldn't use up any more of her energy without dealing with the unbounded Mana.

“I need help,” she panted, catching her breath before reciting a spell. “Dentes curet nocte apparere vocat me [1].”

Shadows emerged over the stone floor, the dark particles clumping together until the silhouette of her wolf appeared. It's sheen coat rippled from the wind as it took its physical form, paws clawing over the ragged stones. Sniffing the sterile air, her Mana boisterously barked before prancing down the steps in big leaps towards a dark chamber.

_Bring her to me alive._

The sound of footsteps captured her attention, weapon attentively raised in preparation for another strike. If it weren't for the shouts coming from Jupiter and Minerva she would've easily killed them.

She hadn't expected for Jupiter’s large hands to suddenly dig into her biceps. His eyes hotly flashed over her heaving form, the golden flaps of his robes sending licks of fire across her bare arms. “Child, what is the meaning of this!?” 

“I-It was Juno. I saw her tampering with the Eye.”

Minerva visibly paled. “Where is she?”

On cue, a shrill cry tore through the thick walls of the temple, and the trio gaped at the snarling creature tugging on the woman’s white robes. Juno tried prying it apart with her feet, never once ceasing her thrashing. With what little dignity she had left, the Precursor snatched the ends of her tattered robes from its mouth just as the wolf opened its jaw, which sent the enemy stumbling onto the steps beneath their feet.

“Vile witch!” Juno lifted herself off the ground, a vehement look crossing over her sunken eyes. “I would’ve succeeded if you hadn’t interfered.”

“So it’s true? You did tamper with the artifact?” Minerva inquired.

“ _Yes_.”

Oh how she wanted to wipe that all-knowing smirk across the pale woman’s face. No, the warrior desired for her head to be butchered and placed upon a stick, or better yet watch as the light receded from her snake eyes once she took the final kill. As long as Juno was massacred today, she didn’t mind what method of torture they used.

“I’ve waited a long time for this moment,” she growled, effectively capturing the attention of her elders. The blade grinded along the stones, the screeching sound making her prisoner tense. A feminine hand held her shoulder back before she could drive her sword into the feeble woman’s body.

Her gaze met Minerva’s, wondering why she would prevent her from finally killing the deceiver. Hadn’t she wanted this? Didn’t she ask her to slay Juno should she ever betray them? Why all the hesitations?

“Morrigan, a word. Now.”

The sudden coldness laced in the blonde’s terse order made her mouth grow dry. Never had she experienced Minerva’s dark side—she hardly knew she had one in the first place—and the last thing she ever wanted was to upset the older woman. The voices in her head demanded for her to bash Juno’s head in, though the stern gaze from her elder had her rooted to the spot like cement. 

Without so much as a protest, Morrigan trekked away from the scene, stepping closer to the entrance of the temple where the force field blazed. “Minerva, I don’t understand—”

The woman held her hand up, immediately ceasing the child’s babbling. A heavy sigh escaped past her cherry lips, her hand rubbing at the evident frown lines on her forehead. “Jupiter and I discussed the issue at hand about Juno’s betrayal. It has come to our attention that she is withholding information from us. Since she was the one to meddle with the Eye, we think it best to destroy it.”

“What!?”

They were stopping their experiment with the Eye just because one of their own had the gall to cross them? Had her friends become so weak that they allowed evil to have a hold over their prides and shatter their wills? Her hands clenched into fists, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of hearing her idol spit back at her with false hopes. Why is she doing this?

“It’s the only way. She knows too much.”

“Then let me kill her now,” she demanded. “You said you believed in me, or was it also pretense?”

A pregnant silence wormed its way between the two women as they stared each other down. The hushed whispers from behind instantly dissipated after the fiery Precursor talked back to her superior, the action never once being down in all their years.

Minerva sighed, angling her attention away from Morrigan’s speculative glance. “Please, don’t make me do this. I had thought it would be just, but it won’t prove anything. We still need her for our cause. She is more valuable to us alive, but that doesn’t mean she will go unpunished. An eternity imprisoned below the temple should suffice.”

Hot tears leaked down her face, the walls of her throat constricting from the pressure. She didn’t understand why everyone was always against her in everything. As much as she had tried to become the hero they needed, they were just using her magical abilities to their liking until she was no longer of use, like a marionette unable to control her own actions and then discarded after being played with for too long. Even if she hadn’t said it, Morrigan knew deep down that Minerva had subtly undervalued her hard work, and the cold truth painfully squeezed her heart out. That also meant she was just like the rest of the Precursors Morrigan had despised with every fiber of her being.

A gentle hand rested over her moist cheek, but the warrior furiously slapped it away. Her fingers hastily wiped at the tears, pushing past her elder in a blind daze. “I’m done with all your lies. Both of you. I had looked up to all of you, yet this is the thanks I get? You can very well manage without me; you’ve surely done fine without my help.”

“Morrigan!”

If things didn’t turn out the way they were, she would’ve happily bounded up to her mentors and raptly listened to every word of advice they had to offer. But she hadn’t turned around.

Things were different now. The bonds that held her back from achieving her true potential were finally severed. No longer was she going to be a puppet for someone else’s amusement. _I should’ve left a long time ago._

The barriers brought down their defenses, and Morrigan finally let the night air soothingly kiss her in greeting as if welcoming her home.


	7. Chapter 6

The stampede of hooves shook the earth, teams of horses running across the open plains. From above an eagle proudly flew past the skies, following the animals before changing course. Behind the herd, with hands snatching at the reins and the ends of the cloak bellowing in the wind, was a female rider.

After disbanding from the elders, Morrigan made the rash decision in traveling the land without charting a path to one single destination. Her original intentions had been to return to her family, who were hiding below one of the numerous Vault systems spread throughout the world. However, finding the entrance where she last saw Ulrik wasn't easy considering all that had once been familiar to her had drastically changed. Unless she happened to come upon her former civilization—no doubt already reduced to rubble—then she could probably start from there.

“I'm sure the entrance is close by,” the female Precursor muttered to herself, allowing for her horse to catch a break. “By the charred tree?”

To her annoyance, almost every tree she glanced upon were either charred or split along the wooden bark. She gave a heavy sigh, pulling the hood closer to her forehead before steering her horse forward where traces of sand grew larger beyond the forest.

Something stirred within the forest. Upon closer inspection, she was able to make out small shadows perched on the branches. Must be more animals, she thought. It wasn't until an arrow skimmed past her cheek did she realize the danger of the situation she found herself in.

Morrigan tried to flee from the ambush, but soon another arrow lodged itself into the horse’s neck. The beast tumbled onto the ground with a strangled cry, bringing the female Precursor down with it.

Dirt assaulted her senses, wiping at the corners of her eyes and spitting out the substance from her mouth. Through the haze she could make out about three half-naked humans armed with bows and arrows. The leader of the group strayed behind the pack, holding what appeared to be a jeweled Scarab.

A Piece of Eden.

So, the mortal thought he could beat a Precursor by using their own device? If memory served her right, the Scarab had belonged to one of many stolen Pieces of Eden from the artifact room. Lessons from her former mentor began to resurface. She used to memorize all the artifacts and their properties before the war. Staring back at the shiny emerald encrusted inside the golden frame, she figured the Scarab either had healing abilities or served as a barrier to protect the bearer from harm. Regardless, retrieving it won't be easy.

She retracted Obsidian from the rider’s seat, the sun glinting off of its metallic blade in warning. “Do you really want to do this?”

Her only response was a feather grazing her cheek, letting the humanoid flesh regenerate the tiny scar.

Another arrow aimed for her eyeball, this time catching the flimsy weapon between the pads of her fingers before the pointed edge could do any harm to her sight. The savage shout allowed her to anticipate the blow from above, pushing the male body off with the long edge of her sword. Her hand clenched over a large fist aimed for her face, wasting no time in ramming the blade into the opponent’s stomach.

Seeing their fallen comrade made them rethink their strategy. The remaining men dispersed on opposite sides before she could swipe at their moving frames. When she saw them running along the bark of the trees and pouncing back into the air, Morrigan rolled out of the way as the incoming arrows rained down onto the ground.

Since she was within range of the human male holding the Scarab, she figured she could try to disarm him before his brother's had the chance to attack a second time. Her arm reached out towards the enemy, only to be stopped by the force field suddenly activating from the jeweled artifact. She pounded on the round field in frustration, redirecting her golden eyes onto the charging humans from behind.

With a simple swipe of her hands, the ground gave way to the numerous roots shooting skyward. One by one the roots slithered up their bodies, effectively keeping them rooted in place. It only tightened its hold the more the humans struggled.

Something dark inside of her urged her to finish the deed. All it took was to fuel her anger into her glowing hands to take away their lives. As much as she wanted to destroy them, she knew this is what the Mana hoped for. Once she failed the bond, there was no turning back.

Before she had the chance to release her captives, she reached from behind to stop the leader from stealing a quick shot. The Scarab deftly fell from his grasp, dirtied fingers attempting to pry apart the humanoid hand that deepened the chokehold. Without so much as a twitch of her muscle, he was lifted off the ground and thrusted into the angry face of the Phantom Queen.

“Run,” she seethed, baring her feral teeth at the cowering human. “And don't bother coming back.”

After releasing her prisoners, the female Precursor picked the Scarab off the ground, staring back into the retreating form of the humans. If they were smart, they would heed her threat and not send in for reinforcements. Besides, she didn't plan on sticking around the area if there truly was a human encampment not far from here.

Morrigan knelt beside the injured horse, soothing the creature with comforting words. Her hand roamed over the bloodied flesh, letting her magic heal the pain. When the creature’s breathing began to settle, and the inflicted area no longer seeping blood, the Precursor waited a few moments before assisting her companion back on its feet. She accepted the playful nuzzle shoving against her neck, settling herself back onto the saddle.

Throughout the long journey, she made sure to deactivate the Scarab before it could cause any potential harm to anyone who finds it again. Her brown orbs shined with the vast codes spiraling around the Scarab, patiently taking her time in rearranging them in a pattern she recognized from her days at the civilization. With a dying hiss, the light from the emerald waned, signaling the success of her handiwork. Now that it was no longer of use, she tossed the object aside where it remained buried within the sand.

The ambush earlier in the day couldn't help but make her wonder about the Pieces of Eden. By now they probably were scattered around the region, lying in some town or other location for someone to gain control over. Since very few Precursor remained after the flare, the artifacts are bound to be in the hands of the humans, whether they required a hybrid’s code or not in order to activate.

 _Someone must do something about it._ She blocked the sun’s harsh rays from blinding her eyes, wrapping the cloak over her face as the sandstorm intensified. _The earth cannot suffer another folly made by the humans._

For some reason, she couldn't help but wonder if _she_ should be the one to track down all the Pieces of Eden. The notion seemed unrealistic given the time it would take to recover every single one of them, though it's not like there were any other options. She still had a good several thousand years left in her to at least deactivate a good portion of them. The only obstacle in her otherwise perfect plan had to deal with locating them while conserving her energy. She needed resources.

A dark shadow from the dune hills fueled her curiosity. From a distance she presumed it to be another attacker, but as she drew nearer the energy within spiked in warning. Instead of a human it was a wolf, though not one she recognized—and she had seen her fair share of animals across the continent. Were they even native to such an arid environment?

Only when it morphed into a sphere of energy did she stagger back in alarm. No one alive in her family had Mana. Could it belong to her son? Had he finally bonded with his?

At that thought she made a mad run after the mass, which gravitated further uphill and out of her reach. _Hold on, I'm coming!_

Time stretched at the expense of the chase. Despite the burning ache in her backside as she slouched over the horse, she couldn't afford losing sight of the entity. This may be her only chance in reuniting with her family—wherever they were hiding. Envisioning their reaction to having her home made her heart pump faster.

Towards the end of the path stood a mountain range extending for miles. The ball of energy directed the Precursor to a grotto within the mountains, dismounting from her horse to enter the hidden alcove just behind the waterfall. From inside there were winding steps leading down below the abyss, thankful she had the Mana illuminating her path.

The first thing she noticed as she got to the bottom is how greener the scenery is in comparison to that above ground. Green vines twined over marble columns that guarded colossal oaken doors. The smell of incense wafting from the thuribles was enough to put her under their serene spell.

She blinked at the Mana, which stayed suspended in the air for her benefit. Then, the life force flew into the open crack of the doors, leading Morrigan to finally enter the empty abode.

Drapes of earthen tone were strung across the ceiling. The floors were decorated in animal skin rugs, mostly made of bear pelts or deer hide. A hint of rose and spice incense flared from the burners, giving the spacious area a homely atmosphere. The walls were lined with rows of shelves, and upon inspecting the spines did she realize these were books that belonged to Precursor civilization.

Such a place she had never seen in her entire life. This was something she would imagine herself doing if she had chosen to stay behind with Ulrik. Decorate their underground home with earthen colors and with furniture that closely resembled nomadic tribes.

The tour ended when she happened to stumble upon an adjoining room. Unlike the rest of the dwelling, there wasn't any furniture inside, only streams of water running along either ends of the room. And against the wall sat a figure obscured by the shadows.

She cautiously moved across the lush carpet until she stopped in front of the stranger. “I don't mean to intrude. I’m looking for my family.”

The figure lifted its head slightly, but refused making a sound.

Something is wrong, her mind warned. She almost gave a shriek from the wolf emerging beside the throne where it's master rested—she hadn't even sensed its presence—which must mean this was the Mana she had been following. From behind, she ducked from the fast-moving bird that landed squarely on the stranger’s shoulder and regarded her with its high-pitched crow.

When the strips of light from the hole in the ceiling revealed the identity of the stranger, she found it harder to breathe. After spending almost her entire life scorning this one man who had taken part in her suffering, and she found herself right now lost for words. This had to be a dream, or a horrible nightmare.

Snapping herself out of her stupor, the female warrior challenged the Allfather with her steely gaze. “I've waited for so long having the courage to face you. Because of your mistake, my family is gone. What little remains of Precursor civilization will soon be gone. I've come here to set things right. And _you_ are going to help me.”

Odin examined the young woman standing before him, glass orb shining with understanding. He gave a gruff snort in disbelief, rising from the throne until he towered over the uninvited guest. “Such insolence. Is that any way to speak to your father?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the remaining chapters tomorrow due to connection issues


	8. Chapter 7

Her face paled, faltering a bit from the steps as reality came crashing down on top of her. _My father? No, it's impossible. It can't be true._

“It is,” he affirmed. “Did you think you would have acquired my powers if you weren't sired from my blood?”

“They told me you were my uncle.” Morrigan struggled more with the revelation of Odin being her father than the ancient Precursor reading her thoughts. “Mother never told me . . .”

“As expected. Most likely to keep you safe.”

This was too much for the female Precursor to take. Next, she bet he would tell her that she wasn't even a Precursor or some other ridiculous notion she never would have imagined to be factual. At least that explained the magic since her mother never possessed it before the curse. She had found it strange at one point that her uncle inherited all the magical abilities whereas the rest of his family didn't. How many lies had she been told just to keep the past buried?

“This was a mistake,” she said. “I never should have come here.”

“Morrigan—”

But she was already out the door.

Meanwhile, the Allfather slumped back against the chair, rubbing at the evident frown lines. This is not how he expected their first meeting to occur. He half-expected the hostility from his own child since he abandoned her and her mother. Yet she hadn't come here intentionally seeking retribution for his wrongdoings despite harboring such strong emotions. If anything, the moment she walked through the doors he could've sworn she never knew she would find him in such a place.

_I’m looking for my family._

His ear perked up, tilting his head to regard the other occupant in the room. “How much did you hear?”

Myrddin shrugged passively, stepping into the light. “Everything.”

“She shouldn't have come here.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” The young man casually strolled over to one of the streams where his reflection mirrored back at him. “But fate had other plans. Will you tell her, then?”

Odin scoffed, knowing full well what the other sorcerer meant. “What good will it do? She despises me.”

“That's because she doesn't know the truth.”

The ancient Precursor joined his friend, altering the waters so that it displayed the image of his daughter. A part of him was relieved to discover that she hadn't stormed outside the grotto. Instead, she retired in one of the rooms spread about the cave, lying down on top of a bed with her wolf companion as sobs racked her frame. It tore at his heart seeing her in such a vulnerable state, almost reminding him of how hopeless he felt when all of his dreams were snatched away from him.

“What would I even say?” He asked, stirring the water in circular motions.

“The truth.”

Beads of liquid seeped through the cracks of his fingers, repeating the action several times. “Will it be enough?”

“For her, it might. To know that you are willing to try. Even if it brings more pain.”

Pain. As if anyone could ever understand the extent in which he went through, all for the sake of protecting his loved ones. Nothing could protect Odin from being subjected to the curse, wondering what horrors lie ahead for his future lineage. That hadn't been the only thing keeping his mind away from ease.

No one knew this, but before Morrigan’s birth he had defied the magical laws of the universe in altering the curse. This hadn't been easy, for any magic he possessed wasn't as rich in quantity as before since the wolves stole it from him. Removing a guardian’s curse is impossible, Myrddin had once explained to him when the ancient Precursor recovered from the failed attempt which resulted in blisters across his burnt skin. And yet altering it without removing it was something entirely different.

The notion had seemed ridiculous to the Allfather at the time. However, the more he paced the more Myrddin’s idea didn't sound so surreal. Magic is tricky among the common order of the universe. It cannot be used to rewrite reality—for example, stopping death or reviving long departed loved ones. Removing its effects can also be difficult, if not nearly impossible, but changing them before they had any further repercussions? Did such a loophole even exist?

Then, as if he couldn't have been surprised in one day, his colleague slipped the Philosopher's Stone in his charred palm. There had been a time when he partook a quest after the stone, but instead abandoned it for the waters of the world tree. Enough magical elements were contained within the stone for him to fix the error of his ways where his own powers could not.

From within the cloak he procured a chord necklace adorned with tight knots and dark feathers. Secured within the claws and wings of the black raven pendant was a polished ruby stone. A faint glow came from within the rock, memorizing the familiar brightness and the surging magic held inside the object.

“Very well.” Odin clenched onto the necklace, feeling the sharp edges of the raven’s claws pierce his flesh. “I'll take it from here. You must get back to your mission.”

“Of course. May peace and fortune be upon you, Allfather.”

After the departure of Myrddin, the male humanoid chose to prowl the quarters for any signs of intruders before approaching the closed door at the far end of the cavern. He raised a fist over the wooden frame, lightly grazing the surface yet refusing to make even the slightest sound.

Nothing good will come from this discussion, he told himself. It was obvious of his daughter’s loathing for him, so there was no point in getting her to see reason. The past was the past; he couldn't pretend his actions haven't have made a profound affect on his offspring when her suffering was clear as day. Too long did she endure all the callous remarks and looks of disgust from her peers. Because of him she had no one left.

No one except her family, that is.

Even if she hadn't explicitly shared knowledge of her family when she came into the grotto, Odin always watched over the child from afar. Oh, he knew well of her little affair from countless times he peered into the waters. As much as it pained him in watching his own daughter become involved with a mere human, it was bound to happen eventually. There were very little Precursor left whereas the humans multiplied by day.

Due to the situation, the Allfather made sure that the magic wouldn't be passed onto humans, for they were too careless and illogical to be gifted with such god-like powers. Besides, Mana was only compatible with pure Precursor code. If anything, for humans, the magic contained in the Mana would remain dormant or not even pass on. But he had to be sure.

Gathering whatever courage remained, Odin gave a sharp rap. Better to get it off his chest while he still can. “Morrigan?”

There was a faint shuffling from the other end, making him wonder if she finally came to her senses. Hope started to blossom until the distinct sound of the bolt latching shut dwindled his efforts. He should have expected this reaction.

“Morrigan, I know there isn't anything that can change what happened.” He twisted the knob to confirm that she had indeed locked him outside. “But we have much to discuss. There are some things you don't understand.”

“Go away.”

Her stubbornness nearly drove him to his breaking point, gripping onto the handle a bit too harshly. Now he knew where she got her temper. Just a bit of magic and he could melt away the iron, or simply break down the door off its hinges. Although, if he ever wanted her to listen to reason, he needed to first earn her trust.

One by one his fingers released the cool iron, taking a moment to cool down before continuing, “Nothing can ever absolve my actions in the past. What you've been told about me is true. There was a time where I became obsessed with knowledge. The loneliness I felt, with no one to understand. I yearned to discover the ways of the world, to find an answer to my existence.”

“When I drank from the waters, I saw something I shouldn't have.” Memories of his loved ones being torn apart by the chaos of the earth left a hollow feeling in his heart. “The catastrophe that befell your people. I was there to bear witness.”

He had recalled his own selfishness, how it abandoned all rational thought and left behind a being lusting for power. Because of his greed he forgot the precious souls that remained back home, the ones whom took the heavy burden in sharing his pain.

“But I'm sure they've informed you of that too,” he said, though he received no affirmation from beyond the barrier. “Did they tell you of the curse? Curse. If there ever is such a fouler deed than being afflicted with darkness. My sight has been clouded. Everywhere I see, death follows. Granted by the ravens.”

Reminiscing the day of her birth, with Freyja close to her deathbed, had been the scariest moments. He continued rambling more to himself than to the occupant in the room, no longer withholding his emotions. The gleaming eyes, sharp fangs, and loss of blood he would never forget. To this day, he bore the scars so that they were forever engraved in memory. This he repeated out to the open.

“Not a moment went by where I haven't thought about you, Morrigan.” The right eye began to glaze over while the glass orb grew misty. His throat constricted to the point where it began getting difficult to breathe. “You, or Freyja. Both my greatest treasures . . .”

“To this day I vowed to make things right.” The Allfather took a step back all the while keeping his gaze firm on the locked doorway. “I will help you find your son. I don't expect your forgiveness. No matter your feelings, just know that I have never stopped loving you.”

When there didn't seem to be any signs of her bringing down her defenses, Odin decided to leave the matter at that. There will be another time where he could tell her more about how he changed the curse for her wellbeing. As for now, she needed space to absorb this new information and simply heal. In the end, he will be waiting with open arms as he should have done some years ago.

On the other side of the room, Morrigan weakly lifted her head as the footsteps receded. Tear streaks marred her tan skin, her eyes puffy and red. She curled closer to her Mana, sinking her face into its russet fur for comfort. Never had she imagined this moment to bring such immense relief. All her life she hoped for the day he returned to set things right, and even though this wasn't the exact picture she had in mind, it was close enough. Now more than ever she finally embraced the side of her that had waited for so long to be at peace from the inner turmoil.

_I forgive you._

Something warm and pure grew inside of her. All thoughts of the second Mana—her deceased mother’s Mana—came to mind. Too long had she drained herself to keep the danger away, but now there didn't seem to be anything afoot. In her vulnerable state, she allowed for it to surface so that she can fulfill the bond.

From beneath fiery strands, the female warrior could make out the new addition taking form. The great power surging through her veins awed the Precursor, never having felt quite invincible. In that moment, she knew now more than ever that everything was as it should be.


	9. Chapter 8

When morning came from the glare through the cracks, Morrigan made haste in gathering her belongings. Books, tools, and food were stuffed inside a knapsack woven out of animal hide. Sturdy enough to keep everything contained for the long journey ahead.

Pushing the heavy weight of the door aside, she examined every corner of the lofty cavern to find no one in sight. The cool blade of _Obsidian_ didn't help shake off her nerves, willing herself to move forward. When she reached the top of the grotto, with the wind blowing dusts of sand in her face, did she notice who stood waiting in silence.

Odin turned towards the shadows when his daughter approached. “You're leaving?”

She nodded. “I've overstayed my welcome. They are waiting for me.”

“Do you know where they are?” He asked, the ends of his robe shuffling from the raging wind. “Where to find the entrance?”

No words were spoken. Instead, she allowed for both of her Mana to materialize on either sides, which instantly answered his questions. “I'll manage.”

“Freyja,” he said rather than asked with a far-off look. “You kept hers?”

“It was what she wanted,” she elaborated, shifting the lightweight bag in her grasp. “So that I wouldn't be alone.”

Before the Precursor could move past him, a firm grip forced her to stay rooted in place. Brown orbs trailed over the worn humanoid hand from underneath the cloak, regarding the elder man with curiosity. In front of her dangled a raven pendant, absentmindedly taking the charm after receiving his silent confirmation. “What is this?”

“A tracking device.” He helped secure the clasp around her neck. “It shines only when it senses traces of Precursor origin other than the bearer.”

No doubt one of other relics he enchanted since it wasn't a Piece of Eden. Despite having second thoughts, the gesture didn't go wholly unappreciated. Now she could find the entrance to the Vault and reunite with her family. Yet there had been another thought in regards to the necklace. If the artifact could really pick up elements of humanoid essence, it also meant the Pieces of Eden could be recovered across the region. She still planned on commencing her mission after the ancient artifacts once she was satisfied that her son and Ulrik no longer needed her—mostly when they have spent all of their standard years as humans while she continued to live on.

Something told her that the sorcerer standing before her knew of her goals as well.

She bid her father farewell, relishing in the warmth and comfort of the embrace. “Thank you. You won't be joining me?”

A flash of longing filled his glass eye, but then it faded away. “No. It is not my position to interfere in your life. But should you need me, only ask.”

“I will.”

Since the departure into the dune dessert, Morrigan found the Vault system beyond the ruins where her family expectantly awaited her arrival. She helped raise her son as promised, relieved to have him successfully bond with his own Mana. The lack of magic initially confused the mother, but that had been the least of her worries. It wasn't until Ulrik’s death and her son having a family of his own did she finally decide to embark on her quest for the Pieces of Eden.

The long journey ahead had been trivial, though not entirely wasted. Her necklace became of aid as it carved a path to every artifact. In no time she had deactivated a good majority of them. Sometime in her journey her necklace began behaving strangely, shining in some areas but unresponsive in others. At first, she assumed the charm had nearly exhausted its energy, but that couldn't be because she would constantly enchant the stone for her personal use.

Then one day it stopped glowing altogether.

There were times where she had lost her temper from the pendant’s unresponsiveness. She knew fully well that she couldn’t deprive herself of her powers with what little time left she had on this earth. As she aged over the years, her tired body had trouble maintaining energy; she needed her powers to protect her from the ruthless humans roaming the lands. But how can she go on if the pieces refused to reveal themselves?

_There isn’t any place where I haven't looked._

During her long-term hunt for the artifacts, Morrigan settled down in Nordic territory in a decent hut of turf and thatch that provided shelter from stormy nights. Game was fair in the green pastures only miles away, and she relished in the isolation away from mankind.

A soft smile graced upon her face as she watched the reflected images of her descendants from the shallow waterhole outside her home. To her delight and expected outcome, all of her descendants successfully used their gifts for the greater good, choosing to defeat their inner demons and follow the light. She had full faith in all of them, but her fears mounted when one particular man was seduced by the madness of the beast.

Erik Thorvaldsson.

Otherwise known to most as Erik the Red, the name was very fitting for a young Nordic Viking with deadly ambitions to pillage the lands and slaughter his enemies. He was accused of horrendous killings by his own people during times when his own Mana overpowered his state of mind, which caused him to be exiled by the council to some unknown place she wasn’t familiar with. Though that didn't stop him from gathering his brothers and exploring the lands for the next three years.

All thoughts of Erik made the waters shift. Her skin grew pale from the way those light eyes unexpectedly changed hue, gleaming in golden yellow that sent shivers down her spine. It shouldn’t have unnerved her—it was natural for their eyes to shift whenever they used the spirit’s senses—but what followed afterwards made bile rise in her throat.

The whole white part surrounding the irises immediately turned pitch-black. Sharp canines retracted from his mouth and pointed nails spiked out from his fingers, a maniac laugh shrieking into the dark night. Several of his men fearfully withdrew their swords, stumbling back as their leader—or rather monster—darkly chuckled. _That wretch!_

Erik didn’t even bother bonding with his own spirit, instead choosing to use the curse for his own sadistic pleasures. And the human part of him will soon be gone from this world.

Her entire body quaked, trying to dispel the way he had lecherously lapped up at the blood before his hungry eyes settled onto the corpses of his crew. Then he had feasted on their soiled flesh as if he hadn't ravished anything in months!

It was horrific. Feral. Inhumane.

Morrigan fell to her knees, groaning in pain from the sluggish sensation. Heavy pants fell from her dry lips, eyes glazing over as the environment around her began to morph. Visions of his animalistic grin re-emerged along with a blinding red light. Next came the glint of her sword as lightning flashed across the sky, the weapon driving into a silhouette of her future self without warning. The foresight was never wrong.

It had been a sign of her death.

A faint light erupted from the ruby stone, clutching onto the item so she could better view it. Why would it finally answer her when she was on the brink of death?

“Father,” she whispered, feeling her energy draining almost instantly. It was futile; holding onto the necklace wouldn't bring him back. He wouldn't come.

The Allfather died around the same time she went to scavenge for the Pieces of Eden. With his dying breath, he revealed a part of the curse that he kept hidden. In addition to placing the bond as a means to preserve the lineage, he had also taken away their magic from ever passing onto their future generations. Humans didn't deserve to manipulate their godly gifts and drive the earth into chaos, he reasoned. But that didn't mean they would face the curse for nothing. The least Odin could provide their descendants is to be granted the senses of their Mana, to aid them in times of peril.

She found herself in agreement with the change.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, white flashes magically shining in different places while the thundering noise sent her on edge. She rubbed at her tired eyes, huddling herself within the deerskin blanket. The cold wind slapping her face sent her teeth clattering, small specks of snow slipping past the hole in he roof as a reminder of the impending weather.

 _Someone must continue my work_ , she mused. Too many Pieces of Eden remained, and she was running out of time. She would not die in vain.

Once the weather lessened did the weak Precursor step out into the open. Shaky hands steadied themselves against the doorway. Past the blurry contours of her environment did she make out a figure not far from her hovel. Only when lightning flashes overhead did she recoil at the malicious sneer belonging to Erik.

He's here.

“Take my magic,” she urged her Mana as her enemy came closer. “I haven't much time. Quickly!”

They hesitantly peered back at their fallen mistress, flapping their ears against their skulls. Both wolves briefly stared at one another in silent communication, taking a small step towards Morrigan before sinking their canines into her tanned flesh.

She bit her lower lip, letting her spirits drain all of her magic as the piercing sensation intensified. As the powers slowly left from her system, her body slumped further to the ground, blinking her eyes open so she could stay focused on Erik.

“N-now, leave from here . . .” Her fingers protectively ran over her injured wrist, which slowly healed in matter of seconds as the scar sealed shut. “You will decide which ones . . . which two of my descendants are worthy enough to possess my gifts . . . ones pure of heart and strong enough to wield the curse . . . Go!”

Her faithful companions bowed their heads, raising their snouts up into the dark sky where a gust of wind encircled them until they were nothing more. Fingers dug into the hard rocks below her, tears streaming down her face. This had to be what defeat felt like, she begrudgingly thought. There was no use in enhancing her sword when she was about to die anyways.

Soft crunches of fallen twigs snapped in front of her face, brown eyes looking at the dark wool boots. She roamed over the thick trousers to the bare muscular torso, all the way across the bear cape with his red mane flowing from beneath the horned helmet. Morrigan gritted her teeth as he kneeled before her with that knowing grin, black pools inspecting her weak form.

“I know you,” he gravely muttered, darkly chuckling to himself. “Thank you for the power, goddess.”

She spat in his face, seething in hostility. “You have desecrated our lineage the moment you let the monster take control of you. I will take back what’s rightfully mine and prevent any more bloodshed from spilling.”

“You can try. But we both know who will be defeated.”

Those calloused hands rubbing at the dried tears made her flinch. The clanging sound around his neck had diverted her attention to the various cords, feeling a shiver wash over her when she stared at the emblem holding the cape together.  
If she hadn’t known any better, especially from the way her necklace scorched her skin with its bright light, that medallion was a Piece of Eden. It had traces of Precursor all over it, that she knew, yet Morrigan couldn’t recall seeing that kind of artifact in her lifetime.

“I’m merely fulfilling her wishes,” he coolly replied, noticing her curious stare running over the triangle-shaped mark on the stone. “This helped me find you.”

A locator, then. One similarly fashioned to her necklace, except his medallion was only finding _her_. She had no idea as to who would be looking for her; she left the triad out of her own free will ages ago, and they hadn’t made the effort to make amends. At least they respected her wishes in not being discovered, so that ruled them out as possible suspects.

_Wait, she?_

“Juno,” she softly whispered as everything clicked into place. “She sent you.”

Remembering how her sword had touched the pale woman’s skin, was it possible that Juno picked up the weapon’s remnants so that Erik could be able to find her? The idea didn’t sound daunting to her, knowing the vile woman had wanted her dead from the start.

Her sword was lifted from the ground, her hands trying to reach for it, only to be shoved back by Erik’s foot. “Any last words, goddess?”

Dark eyes glowered at the empowering male above her, lips rapidly moving on their own accord. “Redde mihi maledictione saeculis amplius populum meum appono meus—”

A choked sob tore past her pink lips, eyes widening from the hilt buried deep into her chest. The hot fluid leaked out of her mouth, gasping for breath while red bathed the sword. Her eyes hauntingly stared back at her reflection as she tried to finish her spell before death took over. “Remitto tibi onus . . . Animumque tuum mundabitur . . . euismod semper . . .[2]”

Bloodied hands cupped his face, letting the red paint his rugged cheeks. She could faintly see Erik’s eyes return to normal, light grey orbs blinking back at her in wonder. The evil spirit inside of him writhed from the spell, her mind hearing its twisted howl before finally disintegrating out of existence.

Thousands of raindrops pelted down onto the earth. The cold encompassed every part of the Phantom Queen’s skin, letting out the final breath before slumping against the Viking’s strong arms.


	10. Epilogue

“Dr. Isaac? Can you hear me?”

The scientist groaned from the blinding light shining over his pupils, blinking several times. A searing pain ricocheted throughout his entire spine as he attempted to sit up straight, and if it weren't for the arm around his body he would've fallen flat on the ground. Just what happened?

Flashes of red and blue appeared in his peripheral vision. Several officers stood along the yellow tape line that blocked a good mile radius leading into the facility. Besides the concerned scientists and staff administration getting checked by the paramedics, there didn't seem anyone who suffered critical injuries other than a few scrapes.

All he remembered was conducting tests on the blood sample given to him by the Templars. Then there was that video chat with Vivian, and the alarm system going off. Everything after that became a total mystery.

“Where am I?” He groggily replied, holding a hand at the stained cloth taped over his temple.

“Outside the lab facilities.” The paramedic again checked for his heartbeat, humming in thought. “Seems you were out cold during the outage. Your assistant was kind enough to carry you to safety.”

“Mina?” Imagining the meek young woman dragging his limp body across the corridors was something he couldn't quite paint a mental picture. “Is she alright?”

He pointed towards the brunette waiting patiently by the ambulance car before packing up his equipment to move on to the next person. Dr. Isaac shrugged the blanket closer to his body, trudging across the snow-paved roads towards his assistant. His boots sloshed a couple inches in the ice. If it was one thing he hated more than anything was the freezing temperature that plummeted below zero degrees.

At the sight of her boss did Mina forego her somber attitude for her cheerful perkiness. “Dr. Isaac! I'm so relieved you're alright.”

“As am I, Mina. Were you waiting all this time for me?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. I wouldn't abandon you all alone out here in the cold. Oh, which reminds me. I managed to save some of your papers and your laptop. Had to pull in a few favors to get them from security.”

At the mention of his laptop, the male scientist hurriedly rifled through the contents of his duffel bag as if finally realizing the cause for the outage. Thankfully the device didn't look damaged, but who knows if it remained trapped in its eternal sleep. First thing he would do once he wasn't surrounded by so many people is to check if the uploaded files were saved. Maybe they held the answers to what he just witnessed in his unconscious state.

_Those memories. Did I imagine them?_

Whatever he saw it couldn't have been a dream. The scenes relaying in his head had provided him with substantial knowledge over Precursor civilization that very few knew about, especially about the Grand Temple and the Toba Catastrophe. The one crucial information that intrigued him the most was the connection between Morrigan and Odin. Today, they were one of few deities in ancient mythology revered to hold significant value among modern culture. To think that there existed Precursors who harvested _actual magic_ was beyond his wildest imaginations.

The sirens echoing in the cold air didn't soothe his migraine. He needed to return to his apartment where he could further contemplate over the visions in absolute silence. Only then would he be satisfied.

“I'm terribly sorry for making you worry,” he genuinely stated. “If it's not too much trouble, I need a ride back to the city. I can pay for gas if you like.”

A sad smile wormed it's way on her face, something he only rarely seen once in a blue moon. “Wish I could. Actually, someone came by and asked about you. She said she was an old friend of yours? Her name’s Vivian.”

The name alone was enough to make shivers crawl down his spine, and not the ones he currently experienced from the cold. He had almost forgotten about his associations with Abstergo Industries until Mina mentioned that name—not that she intentionally meant to make him worry or knew who the Templars were. Had Vivian found out about the outage?

_Of course she knows. They have eyes and ears everywhere._

Once all the examinations were complete, everyone except the cops piled towards the parking lot. Meanwhile, Dr. Isaac remained standing on the curb of the road, waiting for the fateful moment where he would be interrogated by the Templars. Mina had already left with the rest of the staff, giving him ample time to prepare for the interrogation. On the one hand, if he was lucky, Abstergo wouldn't know the cause of the outage and simply ask about his well-being. On the other hand, they might suspect something occurred inside his lab that related back to the blood sample and demand he tell them the truth. Or he could simply be overanalyzing the situation. What did they know, anyway?

The sleek black car pulling along the edge made him clutch onto his bag in alarm. He didn't have time to breathe out a word, for the Templar in the suit rolled down the window before saying, “Get in.”

Dr. Isaac carefully entered the vehicle, finding himself sandwiched between two goons. There hadn't been any space to move around, not with their beefy arms and the bag on his right that restrained him in place. Across from them sat the CEO of Abstergo with her leg crossed over the other as if the situation at hand was merely another dinner date.

“Glad you could make it, Elias.” The manicured hands smoothed down the lines of the pencil skirt. “Heard about the outage from one of our teams.”

“Well, you know about the labs. Poor electricity.”

The self-assured smirk told him that she didn't believe his pathetic excuse. “Care to explain this to me then?”

A tablet was tossed into his lap, the large screen displaying what looked to be a paused recording of him sitting at his workbench. The time displayed at the bottom read 21:33 with the current date next to it, the numbers increasing as the recording played. Towards the end it showed him tampering with the mechanism that powered the electrophoresis before a burst of energy exploded in his face. From there the screen went static.

Her painted lips quirked from the uncomfortable look plastered on her colleague’s face. “Shortly after the explosion came the calls of a power outage that affected Denver. Doesn't seem to be the makings of _poor electricity_ on your end.”

So it wasn't the lab that had lost power. An entire metropolitan area also experienced the same predicament. The thought of one mass of energy responsible for cutting off an entire city’s resource was unbelievable. And to think such an entity had been inside a Precursor such as Morrigan.

Sensing the muscles flex beside him made him rethink his next strategy. Lying won't get him out of the corner he backed himself into, yet he wasn't too keen in telling her the whole truth about the Mana or about the Morrigan. For one, she had completely invaded his privacy by hacking into his device—which wasn't necessary considering he made video diaries for them. Then there were the secrets she kept to herself about the incident at the company, and the identity of the unknown subject that had the Mana inside their code.

No amount of information he could give without her repeating the same callous treatment. Two could play it this game.

He gave a shallow swallow, finding the right words to say without giving away anything not worth divulging. “Alright. I was examining the sample you gave me. It was unresponsive to the normal treatments. I had altered the settings and something within the codes bursted. It may have been responsible for the blackout.”

“And the DNA?”

“Nothing,” he pretended to act remorseful over the subject matter, trying his best not to look out the window lest she caught onto his schemes. “The codes disintegrated before I could receive any data. Though if I return to the lab there might still be blood—”

“There is no blood,” she interrupted.

“We’ve surveyed the area under quarantine. Nothing but broken glass and spilled chemicals.”

One of the most important samples to have ever reached their lab only to be lost forever. A part of him expected her to chisel away the calm exterior she plastered on. He was one of few to have been a spectator to her dangerous side kept hidden beneath layers of pencil skirts and high-end sophistication. Surely the loss of the sample was enough to send her on edge.

However, he couldn't have been more surprised when Vivian simply breathed through her nose before squaring her shoulders back against the cushions. “Very well. A minor miscalculation on our part. It was meant to be used as leverage, but no matter.”

“Leverage?” He questioned, amused by the worried expressions from the men. “For what?”

Before she could catch herself on the minor slip of the tongue, the driver announced their arrival at his apartment complex. He had no choice but to gather his belongings and wish them all a safe journey back home. Seeing the car finally roll down the block made him release the breath he never knew he had been holding. For now, he was off the hook.

Everything about the Templars was so cryptic he wondered half the time how he managed to catch himself in their crosshairs. What is she trying to hide from him? Who or what is she getting leverage on?

The lock clicked from the jingling of a key being inserted into the keyhole, light filtering through the open doorway. Trails of water leaked down the material of his coat as he shrugged the article over the coat rack. Of course, he made sure to close the door and check around the area to see if he was truly alone.

Hitting the power button on the laptop automatically restarted the device, much to his relief. Fortunately, the files saved earlier had remained intact. Only downside is he wouldn't be able to view them from this device since the Templars had managed to hack into it.

“Let's see here.” He transferred everything onto a USB drive before deleting them from the laptop, tossing it into a box for proper disposal. Then, he dug around for the spare laptop hidden inside a chest underneath the bed. The older generation wasn't made by Abstergo, so he wouldn't need to worry about being watched or tracked by them.

Codes instantly scrolled across the screen. Underneath the newly added files were dates that went back to the 1800s. So the ancestor could have lived anywhere in the world during such a dark period. It also meant Morrigan's lineage had prospered.

If he recalled the words spoken by the warrior before her death, it may have something to do with the curse. He typed the spell into a built in translator, slowly reading through the translated words. The curse involving the Mana had been lifted for all descendants, he mused. And yet the sample today had proved this wrong. Then that meant the two Mana who had taken Morrigan’s magic had been successful. They had found their advocates.

Question is, what did they do with her powers? And the Pieces of Eden? Have they managed to find them?

“I need to dig further,” he swiveled away from the table. “But how can I get access to the Animus?”

Unless he had a spare machine that linked the subject into an ancestor’s memories, the investigation would have to be postponed until further notice. Maybe a giant machine wasn't what he needed, cursing his ancient mind for being stuck in the past. If he recalled, Abstergo had recently created smaller headsets that connected to their computers to give them the ease and feasibility of searching through an assassin’s memories. Would they notice one of them missing from their inventory?

An idea began to take form. Crazy as the notion was, there was only one way in getting the answers he needed. And the breach gave him the perfect opportunity in carrying out his plan. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

He was going to infiltrate Abstergo Industries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Civil War will be posted soon

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin’s Creed belongs solely to Ubisoft; any ideas or characters from the AC series manipulated into the story are purely used in a fictitious manner. This work is intended for fun; any names, locations, characters, and incidents are either created by the author’s quirky imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
> 
> Sensitive topics will be presented throughout the series such as—though not limited to—the following: slavery, racial discrimination, child labor, women trafficking, and attempted rape. These topics may not generally involve the main character(s) as side characters are affected as well. Trigger warnings will be left in certain chapters in order to prepare readers for what is about to happen.


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